


Bound by the Bandit King

by Sinesthero



Series: Titans of Industry [12]
Category: Borderlands, Borderlands (Video Games), Tales from the Borderlands - Fandom
Genre: Bondage, Gunplay, M/M, Nerds putting alot of effort into sex, Rhys is bad at staying in character, Sex Roleplay, pain play, rope
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-18
Updated: 2016-06-18
Packaged: 2018-07-15 18:33:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7233946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sinesthero/pseuds/Sinesthero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vaughn arranges a ‘Ravishment Scenario’ for Rhys. He is to be an Atlas engineer kidnapped and tortured by the wicked Bandit King.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bound by the Bandit King

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place some time after they get their compound built. Blame Jennpy for this. XD

The barrel of the revolver was thrust against the unnatural, circular port  in the side of Rhys’ head with a faint clink of metal on metal. The hideous psycho mask covered the face of his assailant and made it sound strange and disturbing. “Well look at you, such a pretty little meat sack,” the words were drawled out low and lascivious.

Rhys shivered violently at the sensation. It was cold and it gave him a strange, tingling feeling that persisted so long as it was held there. Something about it went straight to his stomach and made him feel a faint bit sick. Or maybe it was just the terror of someone holding a gun to his head, however unloaded a scene prop as it may have been.  

*    *    *    *    *

It was the start of a scene that had been a month in the planning. While Vaughn already had an actual psycho mask he got on his first day on Pandora, as well as an vintage Atlas revolver, there were yet other props and details to arrange.

Rhys knew he was planning something big. There were too many quick screen changes on Vaughn’s monitor when he entered a room this past month to not think that something was up. However, as he trusted his husband implicitly, there was no need to question it.

It all started after a night of drinking in celebration over a lucrative contract. Rhys had put forth the feelers that he had been interested in attempting a ravishment scenario with particular guidelines on what he wanted. He wanted something that felt real. As he had legitimately been kidnapped, albeit by Loader Bot and though that was not a particularly sexual experience, Vaughn felt compelled to pull out all the stops for this.

The CEO had received his character dossier that morning at breakfast before they each left for their final day of the work week. While he sipped his coffee and ate his toast he examined it

His character was merely called: VIP Engineer.  His backstory was noted as follows:

_VIP Engineer works for the Atlas Corporation. He has been traveling through the wastes in a heavily armored caravan that was subsequently set upon by a group of bandits. Attempting to flee, the engineer tried to run as his guards were gunned down. He ran down a narrow pass and tried to lose himself  in the rocky landscape. However, he found himself tracked and surprised by none other than the Bandit King._

_The engineer is unarmed, but carries in his cybernetic implant the plans to the super weapon he has created for the Atlas Corporation._

Rhys had read it immediately committed the details to memory and was unsurprised to come home to find a Gun immediately put to his head.

*    *    *    *    *   

Vaughn gripped him roughly by the arm and said, “March.” The gun was still tight to Rhys’ port. For his role as the Bandit King, he was dressed in an outfit made up to resemble his ragged bandit clothing from before he had returned to a life of comfortable slacks and button down shirts.

Rhys lifted his chin, defiant in his expensive, designer suit. He turned and tried to jerk his arm free of the tight grasping fingers. In a haughty and indignant voice he declared, “Get your hands off me you _filthy_ bandit scum!” Perhaps he overacted a bit, but he didn’t care. They weren’t trying to win any drama awards.

Vaughn released his arm, darting out a quick hand to instead grab him by the throat and put the gun between his eyes. His voice was a dangerous growl, “Get on your knees or I’ll paint the desert with your brains.”

“You need me alive,” Rhys sneered, “Or I’d be dead already.” The taller man spit at the mask with derision.

The gun pulled away from his head just in time for the Bandit to slap him hard across the face with the palm of a gloved hand.

Vaughn grabbed him while he was made off balance and wrestled him to the ground facing downward. His hands deftly worked to pin the tall man’s hands behind him while he shoved a knee into the small of his back to keep him in place.

Rhys cried out, kicking his legs at the pain in his arms and back, “Let me go! You beast! You animal! You monster!”  

Vaughn laughed an ugly, sneering laugh from behind his mask, “Be careful, Atlas Dog. I was planning on just keeping you to myself for the duration of your stay... but try anything again and I think I’m going to let every bandit in my camp have a turn with you, and if there’s anything left we’ll see if the skags want a go… only requirement of this job was that you be alive. Nothing said about the condition you need to be in.”

Rhys could feel the rope being wound around his flesh and metal arms to keep them bound at the wrists behind his back. When he was trussed up soundly in one of the expert knots that Vaughn loved so well, he was roughly patted down by the bandit to check for weapons. One hand even reached underneath him to palm all over the bulge in his tight black pants for far longer than was necessary.

“Heeeey hey!” the pinned man protested, “I’m unarmed, cretin! You’ve killed all my guards!”  

Vaughn’s fingers dug painfully into his armpits and he was tugged up to a kneeling position. The shorter man moved round in front of him and dropped down on one knee so he could look his prisoner square in the eyes. All Rhys could see was the terrible glowing eyes of the mask. “Shut up, Corporate scum. Either you get up… walk real nice and careful… and don’t try any funny shit… or I’ll hogtie you and drag your ass through the wastes until your clothes wear off and your skin is open, weeping and fucking eroded by the desert sand… Mmmmhmmm. Skaggs can smell blood for miles.” The gun was in his temple again, bright and menacing.

Rhys lifted his chin high again and stared into the hideous bandit’s mask with its Vault symbol pattern and horrible circular mouth. “I get it,” He said tersely, using his eyes to communicate his continued defiance.

“Good.” Vaughn pulled the simple cloth hood from around his neck and roughly stuffed it over Rhys’ head so that his face was covered. That done, he was pulled to his feet and lead.

Vaughn led his captive through the wastes. It was really just a matter of wandering him in and around the various rooms of their large apartment at the compound while being careful to make sure Rhys did not trip and smash his face into any walls or furnishings.  

Rhys was nervously lead, legitimately afraid of having  his face smashed into a wall. “What is this… for a Ransom? Who is paying you for me?”

“No questions,” Vaughn said, using the

hand on the gun to poke it sharply against his ribs.

Rhys started to laugh, even though it was out of character. They had marched so long around the apartment that things were starting to feel a tad ridiculous.

Vaughn was very dedicated to the craft of sex role-play and sometimes he went overboard with the small details. Rhys could tell they were near the kitchen once more from the smell of the coffee that Vaughn had put on beforehand to go along with post-coital ice cream.

“What’s so _funny_ , Maggot?” Vaughn said with a snarl.

Rhys went with it, saying suavely and confidently, “My men will rescue me before you know it and no one will ever get the plans to my secret weapon.”

He could hear a door opening and he was soon after lead inside. It was their bedroom, of that he was sure. He could smell the soft fragrance of Vaughn’s collection of massage oils and his own colognes.

Vaughn walked him inside, his hand still on Rhys’ bound hands. He was turned and pushed to a seated position on the bed where he immediately struggled at his bonds and tried to shake off the hood that blinded him.

There was a faint smell of wax in the air. Rhys guessed Vaughn had candles lit. It seemed a bit romantic for a violent sex game, but who was he to judge.

When the hood was pulled all of the way off and he could see again, surveyed the room. It was, of course, their bedroom. He stared daggers at the masked bandit.

The bandit’s hands went to his belt buckle and unfastened it, pulling it swiftly out of the loops before setting it on the mattress. Then those hands went to the button on his pants to unfasten them.

“No!” Rhys protested and kicked out at Vaughn’s shin causing the man to growl out in pain. He would have quite a bruise from it later most likely.

While the bandit was momentarily distracted, Rhys launched himself off the bed using only his legs and tried to ram his shoulder into Vaughn’s chest, but the shorter man was the stronger and managed to easily subdue him and throw him on his face on the mattress.

“You’re going to regret that!” Vaughn shouted as he quickly located another length of rope and sat on Rhys’ legs on the bed to keep them pinned down. First one black, leather shoe and then the other was pulled off the prone man’s feet and dropped onto the floor. Underneath the shoes were a pair of orange and gray striped socks with a small silver A pattern sprinkled over the stripes.

Though he thrashed with all his power, Rhys could not move enough to do anything of use. “Let me go! Damn you!”

With quick determination, Vaughn tied his ankles together over the garish socks. “We could have done this _easy_ . But we’re going to have to do it _hard_ now, pencil pusher.”

“Please. Please don't hurt me!” the captive cried tremulously, feigning regretfullness for his failed gambit.

“You should have thought of that before you pulled that stunt.” He left Rhys on his face while he reached over to the nightstand and grabbed the pair of emergency shears.

“W-w-what are you doing with those?” Rhys said as he saw them picked up, the metal glinting in the low light enough to catch his attention.

“You wouldn’t cooperate… so now you don’t get to keep your fancy clothes,” Vaughn’s voice was taunting as he started cut at the back of the coat and the shirts underneath it.

Rhys cried out as though in physical pain at the destruction of his clothing. “I hate you!” There was true drama in his voice beyond what he was usually capable of in role playing. It was, after all, a five thousand dollar suit of which he was inordinately fond. The sound of the metal shears slicing the rich fabric slowly, but inevitably filled his ears while the artificially cool air of the room prickled at the nerves of his ever more exposed back.

“This could have all gone so much easier,” Vaughn said in a gruff voice thick with maliciousness. He kept cutting and cutting until Rhys’ bare back was fully exposed. He pushed the cut pieces of fabric away from the smooth white skin before he at last removed his mask. He set it on the bed in front of Rhys’ field of vision.

Before Rhys could turn to look at him he pushed him down against the bed roughly. The sharp pain of Vaughn’s teeth biting into the skin of his back made him hiss out his breath. “Ahhh! You monster!” Rhys whined and squirmed at the pain but he was not able to move much; not even enough to get any friction to soothe the unrelenting tightness in his pants.

Vaughn enjoyed himself, taking his time to lick and bite across the back of his shoulders. He especially liked to make sharp little bites at the nape of his lover's neck. “You taste good, Atlas. You smell good too… like a pampered whore.”

Rhys whined softly beneath him at the indignity of being compared to a prostitute.

The bandit abruptly stopped and picked up the shears again starting to cut from the back of the garment across his shoulder and down one sleeve and then the other. It made it very easy to just pull all the useless material away and throw it in a heap on the floor, all without Rhys ever seeing his face.

The trembling man said in a low, husky voice, “You don’t have to do this…” He was unceremoniously flipped onto his back where he could finally look up and into Vaughn’s eyes.

The clear, gray-blue eyes were outlined in thick, black eyeliner and the bandit wore coal black eyeshadow around each eye so as to make himself look strange and unsettling. Rhys was starting to grow amused at the almost certainty that Yvette did his makeup for him.

Vaughn’s hand came down sharply to slap him across his other cheek which made Rhys’ mirth die on the vine and brought him back to the moment. Without a word he picked up the shears again. Beginning at Rhys’ pant leg, he started cutting a straight line up the front of the slacks. When he got to the boxers he pulled up the hem to include them in the destruction of the fabric.

Rhys watched with horrified fascination.  There was a certain amount of decadence to the destruction of his suit in the name of sex. He took in several deep breaths, excited with the thrill of safely explored fear. The fabric of the pants fell away against the bed on the outer side and Rhys blushed fiercely as his leg was partially exposed.

Vaughn started on the other leg, sniping with the shears up the front of Rhys’ pants, “Such white skin. So delicate. So _unsuited_ to _this_ planet. We’re going to make it look a little more… Pandoran. Marked and bruised, and broken.” He grabbed the fabric at the sides and jerked it roughly away leaving Rhys exposed.

Now that he was naked, save for his socks and their garters, the bandit king took a moment to admire his prize. He trailed a finger up one long leg, sliding dangerously near to his erect cock.

Rhys spit again, this time at Vaughn’s unmasked face. Vaughn grinned a frightening expression and slowly wiped the saliva off of his face. Without a word he reached into the nightstand drawer for a cloth he promptly used to cover Rhys eyes tightly.

“I’ll be rescued or ransomed.” Rhys snarled, “I'll have your sorry camp bombed out of existence when I'm freed!” He stretched against the bonds.

His captor sounded unconcerned as he spoke, “The future is the future. The present is where I live and I am presently going to have you, stripped of your empty finery.”

Vaughn was full of activity now. He was binding Rhys with even more ropes. It seemed like an endless series of coils of rope were wound about him. He could not guess the purpose. There were ropes about his thighs, ankles, arms, hips and back by the time he was done.

After what seemed like an eon, Vaughn lifted Rhys up, ropes and all. He set him on his back on the cold floor.

Rhys shivered at the sensation as well as the implication. He was sure of it now. He was going to be suspended.

There was a clink of metal on metal and then the sound of a motor whirring confirming Rhys’ assumption. First his legs were pulled up, them the rest of him followed. His hands were still behind his back but now also secured by a line of rope around each arm. The ropes left him positioned so that his legs were bent at the knees towards his chest with his feet as the highest point on him. His back was parallel to the ground.

When he was freely suspended he moaned at the pure delight of it. It gave him a giddy feeling of weightlessness and freedom, in spite of being so utterly bound.

The blindfold was pulled from his eyes and Rhys moaned at the sight of himself. The colorful rope was looped around his chest,arms, thighs and feet. All four of the major rope lines of his bindings were in turn bound to a large, metal ring which had in turn been attached to a hook on a motorized winch.

With the blindfold removed a final rope was slid around Rhys’ head with the knot tied several inches in front of his eyes. It allowed him to rest his neck so that he was completely cradled and supported.

Vaughn walked all around him, surveying his work. He seemed satisfied with himself, saying, “You won't be able to try anything now.” He leered at Rhys bound and naked form. “You're just a little fly now, all tangled up in the spider's web.” He walked casually over to the nightstand to withdraw a nine-tailed flogger from within its drawers. “Now it's time to teach you to obey me for the duration of your stay.” He held it up and dangled it in front of his face. “Do you see what you've earned?”

Rhys had a limited ability to turn his head but he could see the leather whip well enough. “I promise, I’ll cooperate from now on. Please… please don’t whip me…”

Vaughn walked around him, casually, “You should have thought of that before your resisted me…”

The way Rhys was positioned his ass was exposed and available to all purposes one might have in mind. His jutting cock was free between his legs, no ropes around it.

Vaughn trailed the tails of the whip down his long, white leg sensually before he drew his arm back and whipped the multitude of black, leather tails hard against the white flesh of his behind.

The bound man grunted and his whole body shifted, swaying him gently on the hook. His voice held a note of pain that was music to his abuser’s ears as he said, “I’m sorry, please.. I promise I'll behave.”

Ignoring his pleas, Vaughn whipped him again using quite a bit of his considerable arm strength to make a stinging slap of the nine tails across his ass. “Ahoowwwwwww!” Rhys struggled uselessly.  

Vaughn laughed as he cracked the tails against Rhys flesh again. There were already a multitude of red marks and lines that stood out livid against the pallor of his skin. “You have no leverage to ask for anything.” He whipped him again, looking at Rhys’ face to watch the contortions of his expression as he cried out. “You can do nothing but hang there while I do whatever I want.” He whipped him again and Rhys let out a cry that seemed dangerously close to a scream.

Vaughn paused and just watched him through narrowed eyes. In the name of the scene he was just feasting on his captive with his eyes, though in actuality he was paused, carefully waiting for any verbal indication that Rhys wanted him to stop, or ease up.

Rhys used no safe word. He did not even use the word agreed upon to slow things down.

It made Vaughn’s lips pull up into a grin. Giving Rhys’ ass a break he whipped him up on one thigh and then the other in rapid succession.

Now sweating profusely, Rhys stretched and strained against the bonds. His body started to ache from holding this position but he had no real desire to be free.

It was such an incredible turn on for the Bandit King. He whipped the back of both of Rhys’ thighs and then again struck each cheek of Rhys’ ass, snapping the leather down mercilessly.

Rhys erection waned at the severity of the pain. Just when he thought he could not take much more of the whipping Vaughn threw the whip aside and reached out with both of his hands to rub and squeeze at his ass, spreading the cheeks to examine the his sweet little hole. He could only whimper softly, knowing what was now to come.

The bandits feet carried him away to the switch on the wall and he lowered Rhys a good foot or two accompanied by the sound of the motor.  His gloved hands started to pull off his own vest and the ragged shirt underneath it.

Groaning, Rhys watched his abductor as he fully uncovered his fit, well muscled form. He loved the way he looked. As the pain eased from unbearable into a pleasant burn he felt himself growing hard again.

Vaughn’s thick, beautiful cock was straining at the fastenings of his pants as he unfastened them and pushed them down to his feet before stepping free of them and kicking them aside. He wasn’t wearing any underwear, which Rhys supposed was rather bandit like.

The captive admired that bit of dark, brown hair that ran down his flat belly and formed a little patch around his rigid sex.

Shifting his gaze to the ceiling, Rhys wasn’t looking when Vaughn moved away. He assumed he was off to get lube, and was thus surprised when he came back holding that lit candle. “Oh God.” The flame cast an eerie glow in the dimness of the room.

Vaughn’s darkened eyes were steely and his lips held a wicked quirk. Without a word he slowly raised the candle over Rhys’ chest.

Though he wanted to close his eyes, Rhys kept them both open, watching as the candle was tipped and the translucent, white wax spilled a thin line from the candle’s holder directly onto his chest. Though he was tempted to scan the candle for the temperature, he decided he did not want to know. As soon as the temporarily liquified wax connected with his chest he hissed at the burn. The wax dripped down and sideways before it ran out of movement and solidified on his skin. “Oh… oh god… Please… please no more.”

Ignoring him, the bandit poured another trail of wax down his chest.

“Ahh HaaaaaaAAA! Ow… Ow….. Oh… Oh fuck… oh that… that hurts.” Rhys voice was a pathetic whine. Contrary to his complaints, he was loving the burn and the strange way the wax felt after it hardened.

Vaughn made a humming sound before looking to his cock, still standing attention, “I think you like this more than you want to admit, Atlas.” He scratched at the wax with a nail, watching as it popped up from the man’s skin.   

“Please…” Rhys didn’t mind sounding pathetic. “Please no more… I’ll do anything… I’ll be anything you want. Please…”

Vaughn smiled and drizzled the remaining hot wax left by the candle onto his chest and watched it burn a trail across his skin in random channels before solidifying again to Rhys’ soft sobs of protest.

“Oooooohhh oooooooo,” Rhys eyes were wet with tears, but still the safe word never came. His chest rose and fell hard as he took deep and even breaths.

With a soft puff of breath the candle was put out and Vaughn stepped away to set it aside so that he could take up the container of lube. He left it capped for the moment and held onto it. He kissed the hanging man’s shoulder and applied a sucking biting mark close to his neck.

Rhys just continued to whimper. His wet eyes widening as he watched Vaughn bite his sensitive neck. Every part of him felt more sensitive than normal.

Vaughn sank his teeth into the soft flesh at his neck before kissing it and pulling away. He walked slowly, like a predator, around Rhys, drinking him in, “I’m going to fuck you now, Atlas.”

With a broken cry, Rhys said, “Yes Sir… I’ll behave… I’ll be good…”

“That’s a good little pet.” He flipped open the lube and poured it into his palm. He stroked a hand over his cock to slick it up in preparation before pouring some more of the clear liquid on his palm again. He reached between Rhys’ bent and spread legs to grab his jutting cock. With gentle squeezes he pumped it slowly up and down. “This could have been so much nicer for you all along… next time… you’ll be good… won’t you?” He squeezed the dick in his hand hard.

Rhys squeaked out, “Yes… yes sir!”

“Yes _master_.” Vaughn corrected sharply.

“ _Yes master_!” Rhys cried out to correct himself, desperate for the release at the end of all the suffering.

The stroking became softer, “Good… good…” With one hand he grabbed at the rope holding Rhys’ thigh with the other slicked hand released the prisoner’s erection and pressed between the captive’s legs at the entrance between his two whipped cheeks.

He seemed to change his mind about preparing his lover. Instead he wrapped his hand around his own aroused flesh and positioned it at the edge of that ring of muscle. Rhys’ socked feet were, fortunately higher than his head so he could ravish his captive without the man’s feet in his face. He griped one of Rhys’ legs tightly to hold him still and pushed the tip of his cock’s head slowly through that resistant muscle. With his other hand he gripped Rhys’ other leg and he grinned as he looked at him through the gap between his long, skinny legs. Vaughn was certain that this was going to be fun.

Rhys could feel Vaughn’s sex sinking slowly into him, aided by gravity as he pushed up against the hanged man. The look on the bandit's face was smug and triumphant. It was magnificent. It was everything he had wanted and more when he first put this little gem of an idea into his husband’s head. He hurt and ached in so many places. He could not remember ever feeling quite so alive.

Vaughn plunged himself within his captive lover all the way to the hilt. He stood there a moment, allowing Rhys to grow accustomed to the feeling before he pulled his  hips back slightly. He took him hard again. “Don’t you _dare_ cum until I allow you Atlas… Or I’ll whip you until my arm gets tired.”

With a raw voice that hovered between pleasure, pain and fear, Rhys cried out urgently, “No Master. I won’t… I promise! I’ll be _good_.”

For the time being, Rhys’ erection was left unattended while Vaughn took his time to enjoy his own pleasure. Over and over he pulled back and used the gravity and momentum of the swinging, bound man to thrust hard and deep into him. He kept a keen eye on Rhys’ expression with a pleasured smirk on his own face.

Biting his lip in pleasure and moaning lewdly, Rhys could scarcely even think as Vaughn took him. Between the rocking, the bumps to his prostate and the sweet ache of his burns and bruises it felt like Heaven.

That was before Vaughn reached around and gripped him by his cock to stroke it hard and insistently. He could feel Vaughn’s hot face pressed against the inner part of one of his calves. It was too much. It was all too much and yet he needed more. “Ma-ha… haster! Please… PLEASE,” Was all his brain could compose to beg for release.

“Yes, pet,” Vaughn grunted, never stopping or slowing in the insistent bucking of his hips against Rhys. “Come for me.”

Rhys gritted his teeth and his eyes closed tightly as he came all over his stomach and chest and the ropes with an urgent moan.

“Yes… you’re mine now Atlas.” Vaughn growled, “Maybe I’ll just keep you for myself. Maybe I won’t ransom you at all.” He grabbed Rhys’ other leg again to keep him steady while he continued to rock against him. He drank in the sight of Rhys’ wrecked body as he came, his face still pressed to the other man's calf.

It was quiet when Vaughn finally withdrew himself from Rhys body, his breathing labored. He gave himself a quick wipe down with a towel before he fetched a spare blanket from a chest and spread it on the ground.

Rhys looked dazed or drugged. His pupils were dilated and he was moist with perspiration. With a final whirring sound he was lowered slowly on to the tan blanket.

Vaughn snatched the shears and cut the lines necessary to free him the fastest. He made sure his hands, tied the longest, were cut free first. Then he quickly snipped the lines on his legs so he could stretch out normally. “How are you doing, Tiger?”

Rhys gave a whiney, shuddering breath as his lips pulled up into a dazed grin and one eyebrow arched up. His voice was a bit of a croak upon first speaking, “Good.” He cleared his throat but grew quiet again as he closed his eyes.

With a nod, Vaughn was content to let the silence fall again. The exhaustive physical, mental and emotional aspects of these sorts of scenes often rendered Rhys nonverbal for a time. It was, as ever, a comfortable silence.

Once the rope was all carefully unwound and pulled away he wrapped Rhys in the blanket and carried him onto the bed. When he was settled, Vaughn snuggled in next to him and pulled the edge of the  comforter over himself.

Vaughn kissed Rhys’ temple right next to the port and they both rested a time in silence.

Sooner than Rhys would have liked Vaughn sat up and opened his blanket cocoon to examine his body. “Anything numb? Any soreness?” He looked so somber that it made the tall man amused.

“My ass.” Rhys started to laugh seeming to think he was quite funny.

Vaughn smiled down at him. “Smart ass. I mean from the ropes… nothing looks too bad...  I don't think I broke you.”

“You didn't break me.”

Vaughn peeled up a bit of the wax and looked at the skin underneath.

“Wasn't expecting that.” Rhys said in a half mumble.

“Didn't think so. Was… it what you wanted? The whole thing?” There was the slightest hint of insecurity there in spite of his massive effort in setting up this whole thing.

Rhys was sure to give him all due praise. He smiled up at him with half lidded eyes as he said lowly, “Incredible...it was perfect… the suspension was amazing.... like floating. And you're so convincingly mean. I enjoyed it.”

Vaughn said as he closed the blanket over Rhys again, “Good. I'm going to take a quick shower. When you're ready you can take one and I'll get the ice cream and coffee ready.”

“M’kay.” Rhys agreed and burrowed down into the blankets to rest a while longer, though he paused and said to his husband's nude and retreating form, “Vaughn?”

“Yeah?” he turned to look back at Rhys.

“Thank you.”

“You're welcome.”

*    *    *    *    *

An hour or so later they were comfortably settled on their plush, black couch side by side. Both wore just boxers and fuzzy robes. They had finished their ice cream sundaes. It took Rhys much longer as Vaughn made his much larger and more elaborate than his own with a ridiculous amount of sprinkles, chocolate sauce and whipped cream.

The taller man was leaning against the shorter one while looking at some work files on his palm display. Vaughn had a data pad balanced on the arm of the sofa so he could look over the third quarter projections. They were, after all, both consummate workaholics.

“Vaughn?” Rhys asked softly as he looked over from the report he was skimming.

“Mmmmmm?” Vaughn hummed questioningly before flipping the data pad over so it was clear his attention was on his spouse.

After dismissing his display and dropping his hand, Rhys said, “Do you suppose they fall in love?”

“Who?” Vaughn blinked owlishly at him before it came to him that Rhys was speaking of their characters. “Ohhhh.” He got a sly look in his eyes as he smiled fondly at Rhys for asking such a question. “Well… I suppose we will have to find out, won't we?”

Rhys’ lips pulled up into a radiant, though somewhat dopey smile and he brought up his report again. “Oooooh. To be continued?”

Vaughn nodded and smiled at him, “To be continued.”


End file.
